


fantasy

by cassandralied



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Murder, Pre-Canon, Sadism, mentioned cunnilingus also, most of the violence is implicit but just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandralied/pseuds/cassandralied
Summary: ji-woon entertains himself during a board meeting. inevitably, his thoughts stray to yun-jin.
Relationships: Ji-Woon Hak | The Trickster/Yun-Jin Lee
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	fantasy

“Ji-Woon. How was your weekend?”

The pleasantry is fake. He knows that as well as he knows that Yun-Jin Lee’s lavender nail polish is still drying because she never goes to get them done in salons, as well as he knows that sometimes she sleeps at the office instead of her lavish penthouse, and that nobody in the office considers her a friend or even a confidant, but either an enemy to be feared or a tool to be used.

Ji-Woon thinks he might know more about his manager’s life than anyone else in the world, and he isn’t even trying — how sad is that?

He smiles beatifically down at her, all five foot two in her little off-white stilettos and silk dress. “It was lovely.”   
And it _was_. He’d found a girl walking the streets all alone, so excited to meet her idol, and he’d made her scream so loud and so long that she was rasping terrified breaths out of a worn-out throat long before he decided to finish her off. “I missed you, of course.”

This, too, is true. Poor dear Yun-Jin, too busy managing his life to have her own.

“Mm.” Yun-Jin is already walking towards the conference room, but it’s not hard for him to keep up with her. “We have a meeting with the executives today. I told you about it on Friday.”

“I remember,” he lies easily. It doesn’t matter what the executives have to say — they always let him have free rein. Between Yun-Jin’s intimidation factor and the fact that Ji-Woon is such a big star, the executives talk big but never have the guts to back it up.

He smiles, unaware that he's doing it, as he thinks of ribbons and ribbons of guts — would the all-powerful executives that Yun-Jin likes to pretend she’s not scared of have the same wide-eyed look of dumb surprise if he were to cut their stomachs open? Would they scream and wail? Surely they would — they’re loud enough under normal circumstances.

Perhaps Yun-Jin would even be grateful. She wouldn’t admit it, of course, but he’s seen the smiles that twitch under her cold exterior when he makes jokes about the all-powerful bosses of Mightee One.

“Ji-Woon.”

His eyes fall upon her. Harsh voice, unnaturally stiff posture. Yun-Jin is nervous for this meeting. “They’re waiting for us.”

He turns a bright, charming smile onto her. “Of course. After you, boss.”  
She rolls her eyes, a gesture so small and girlish that he almost misses it, and clicks in with those tick-tock heels. 

* * *

His attention drifts from the fat man sitting at the head of the table saying something about monthly revenue. He’s thinking about Yun-Jin again.

Has she really figured out nothing about his new nighttime activities? Surely he’d be staring down the barrel of a cop’s gun if so. Or perhaps hers — he knows Yun-Jin owns a pistol. It’s in the top drawer of her desk — a remnant, as far as he can figure, from a childhood raised in the slums outside of Seoul. She hasn’t told him any of this, of course, but she’s easier to read than she thinks she is. The way she touches new clothes — his or hers — like she can’t believe that all of this silk or tulle or glitter is just for little old them. The way she holds onto her wallet, like she thinks she might be robbed at any point. And the disdain she has for all of the glittery idols and managers born into wealth and knowing nothing but salon manicures and silk dresses.

Ji-Woon entertains the idea of Yun-Jin pulling a gun on him, savors it.

 _“I know what you’ve done,”_ she’d say. Would her voice shake? Perhaps not, but what an enticing thought. _“I can’t let you kill anyone else, Ji-Woon.”_

 _“Don’t shoot me, boss,”_ he’d implore, reaching towards her — her arms might tremble, but she’d hold the gun steady. _“We’re a team, remember?”_  
She’d lower her guard, just enough for him to — to what?

He could slam her head against her ivory bookshelf. Get a good grip on that icy hair of hers, hit her hard enough to make her nice and pliable. Then he could tie her up and leave her locked in her own office until dark — Yun-Jin is known for working late — until he’d come back to transport her to one of his warehouse workstations. And then — Yun-Jin lived and breathed music. She’d _scream_ so beautifully.

Or maybe he’d kiss her, capture that pert little mouth of hers with enough force to make her drop the gun in surprise. But she wouldn’t pull away — he sees the way she glances at him, sometimes, as if she’s looking at something forbidden. Maybe she’d entwine those slender arms of hers around his shoulders, and he could hike up one of her trademark leather skirts and eat her out until she cried real tears.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything. Maybe she’d lower the gun, brown eyes wary, but she’d understand. He was doing it for the art, she had to appreciate that. Maybe she’d give him permission to go after the people she hated, the women in their cherry-red lipstick who always looked down on her, the Big Boss who loved to come up with reasons to touch her. Even childhood bullies, hell, he’s not picky. Their new album would top the charts, and only they would know why.

“You agree, Ji-Woon?” a voice pulls him out of his pastel reveries, but it’s just one of the sweaty businessmen that never seems to meet his eyes anymore.

He plasters on a picture-perfect grin and pairs it with a nod. “Completely.”  
Next to him, Yun-Jin sends a warning glare, and he flutters his eyelashes at her.

Maybe she wouldn’t figure it out until he literally spelled it out for her. That's okay — he’d come up with an appropriate dramatic way to do so. Maybe he’d make some kind of compilation of murder photos for her to stumble upon, like in the movies:

_He leaned against the door, effortlessly menacing, as Yun-Jin clutched the manila folder in her hands._   
_“You’re a killer,” she said, looking impossibly small. Looking like she still hoped he would deny it, say it was all a big joke._   
_Instead, he took another step closer to her, backing her up against the windowed wall of his penthouse. “Aren’t you glad you came over, boss? You’re going to be such a great addition to my masterpiece.”_

In a move of support for something one of the men said, Yun-Jin puts her hand over Ji-Woon’s. He looks down at the small, pale hand with its painted-perfect rounded nails and thinks about what kind of tool it would take to scoop them out of their beds:

_He finished chaining the door shut just as she stirred — she’d been tied up, as was customary for his most special projects, but there was no point taking unnecessary risks._   
_“Ji-Woon?” she murmured, and it made him smile, that the first thing to her lips was his name._   
_“Hey, boss,” he reached out to tuck a strand of pale hair behind her ear, carefully watching every unnameable emotion in her wide eyes. With his other hand, he lifted the scalpel, traced it up her stomach without breaking skin and tapped it lightly against her collarbone. “You’re the producer, so I’ll let you pick where we start. Okay?”_

“Okay, Ji-Woon?” It’s not the first time Yun-Jin has asked him that, judging her tone. She almost looks nervous of his reaction to whatever question has been asked, and he flashes back to her terrified look in his fantasy. Beautiful.   
He smiles a learned superstar smile, first at her, and then at the board of executives. “Yes, of course. Thank you all for your time.”

He’s whistling as he walks out. The world is full of possibilities, and in every one Yun-Jin is screaming.


End file.
